


The Date Crasher

by RoseAngel



Series: The Red Thread [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meetings, Gen, POV Third Person Omniscient, Prompt Fic, Think vaguely Lemony Snickett style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14551839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAngel/pseuds/RoseAngel
Summary: An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break. - Ancient Chinese beliefA series of alternate ways that John and Sherlock could have met. PROMPT FIC.Prompt #26:Sherlock crashes John's date while trying to apprehend an escaping criminal, and John just instinctively follows him to help, completely forgetting about his date.





	The Date Crasher

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to the world's best beta, Becca (Ao3's LlamaWithAPen).
> 
> Today's prompt comes from FanFiction.Net user jocely.o.ting.

Our story begins in an Italian restaurant.

You must bear with me, dear reader, as I take a little bit of time setting the scene. I know that it is not what occurs in the Italian restaurant itself, but instead what occurs outside, in the moonlit streets of London, that you will find far more interesting. However, if I were to jump straight to this more interesting part of the story – well, then you would be thrown straight into the middle, and suddenly you would find one character throwing punches and another grabbing his stomach in pain and sirens blaring in the distance, and frankly, you would not have the faintest clue what was going on.

I will get to all of that shortly, I promise you. If you came for violence and action, then I will deliver. Before then, however, we must start in the aforementioned Italian restaurant, where I will introduce to you the first of the two major characters in our story.

First, some context, so that you can put an image in your mind. Imagine a busy, Italian restaurant – waitstaff dressed in black and white, tables covered in red-and-white checked tablecloths, scents of pizzas and pastas floating from the kitchen. It's a Saturday night, and I'm sure you can imagine how busy a nice Italian restaurant gets on a Saturday night. All the tables are occupied – families sharing pizza, friends giggling and gossiping over pieces of garlic bread, men and women in various combinations on first dates (or not-first dates). Chefs in the kitchen place well-presented plates of food on the counter top and ring a bell to tell the waitstaff that the food is ready to be served. Waitstaff weave through closely-packed tables, refilling half-empty water glasses, seating diners, placing cloth serviettes in their laps.

The character that we are particularly interested in on this fine Saturday evening is a man by the name of John Watson. John Watson is an army doctor who has recently returned home from Afghanistan. He is seated at a table by a window, near the kitchen counter; he can smell the fresh food ready to be served. Across from John is a beautiful woman, with dark hair and red lips. Her name is Jeanette. Jeanette is not the second of the two important characters in our story; I tell you her name more so for context than anything else. Jeanette is, of course, an important character in her own story, but she is not an important one in this one. At least, she is not as important as John, and one other character that you will meet very soon.

John and Jeanette are on their first date. If you were sitting there in that Italian restaurant, you would know that just by looking at them, even if you did not have me – your trusty narrator – to tell you as much. There's a certain degree of awkwardness in their conversations, in the way their eyes move around the restaurant instead of holding each other's gaze for extended periods of time; it shows that they have not known each other for very long. They do not have the kind of familiar comfort around one another that comes with a long-term friendship or relationship.

So, if you saw John and Jeanette, you would know without knowing them that they are on a first date. However, I can tell you a little bit more than this. I can tell you not only that they are on a first date, but that that first date is not going well. The awkwardness in their conversation surpasses the kind you would expect from two people who are still getting to know one another. It's the kind of awkwardness that you see when two people are talking and they just don't  _click_.

They are trying, of course. They want to get along and they want this to work, because they have put the effort into dressing up and coming out tonight, and they both want to go home feeling like it was a worthwhile use of their time. Unfortunately, however, some people are just not meant to be. Sometimes, no matter how nice two people are to one another, and no matter how hard they try to make a good impression, it just won't work.

Of course, it is also the case in some situations that two people just fit together so easily, that after a few hours of knowing each other, they look like they've been friends for their whole lives. And don't you worry, dear reader, because John will meet someone like this very, very soon.

Now, I've given you a little bit of context. You should be picturing the Italian restaurant, with the awkward couple sitting at the table by the window. Are you picturing it? Perfect. Now, that's the background out of the way. Now, the story can finally begin.

I won't bore you with descriptions of their food (which was delicious) or their conversation (which was awkward), or the thoughts that were running through each of their minds (which portrayed precisely how uncomfortable they were both feeling). Instead, let me skip ahead to something you might find a little bit more interesting.

Let's go with this:

The glass window by John's table shatters, and a man crashes through it, landing directly on John's table.

(Interesting enough for you?)

The man who lands upon John's table is tall and pale, white skin littered with small cuts and bruises (some looking so fresh you can assume they have come from crashing through the glass window mere seconds ago). He is the other important character in our story that I referred to earlier. I will tell you much more about him later. For the moment, however, I'll ask you once again to bear with me – I do not want to give you his name, because I want you to see him as John is seeing him, and John does not yet know his name, or anything else for that matter. For the moment, let's just refer to him as "The Date Crasher".

I'm sure you have heard this term before. I imagine you're familiar with the idea of "crashing" someone else's dates. Usually, date crashing is not quite so literal. It does not usually involve physically crashing through a glass window.

(Compared to the typical description of date crashing, mind, this is far more fun.)

I've slowed down the narration in this section, as you can see, because I wished to give you time to get a picture in your mind of the man who crashed through the window by John's table. Are you imagining him now? Shards of glass caught in his dark curls, blood from small cuts smeared over his skin? Good. Now that you've got that image in mind, let's get back to real-time.

The moment the glass shatters, John cuts off whatever unimportant thing he had been saying mid-sentence. There are sounds of surprise from the other tables in the room; all conversation has ceased, because there is nothing more effective a conversation-breaker than a man crashing through a glass window. John and Jeanette leap out of their seats – Jeanette knocks over her own chair in the process, stumbling backwards a few steps to put distance between herself and the table where the man has just landed. Nearby, a waiter drops a plate in surprise.

The shocked sounds from the other tables are immediately followed by silence. Everyone is staring.

The man who had landed on the table – The Date Crasher – does not take a moment to catch his breath. He doesn't land on the table as much as he slides over it, because it's only a second or so after he hits the table that he rolls off and onto the floor. He lands on his hands and toes like he is doing a push-up, pushes himself off the ground and to his feet, and immediately takes a few steps backwards, away from the table. It's a good thing he does, too, because mere seconds after he vacates the table, a second person – this one much bigger, much more muscular – flies through what used to be a glass window and leaps over the table as well.

This character in our story is bald. His skin is littered with scars that can only be the result of fighting and likely violent crime. You can also see tattoos peering out from underneath his sleeves. If you saw this man in the street, you probably would not think he looked friendly. In fact, if you saw him in the street, you would probably cross the road and walk, or perhaps run, in the other direction – and you would be wise to do so.

Let's give this character a name too, shall we? Let's call him The Attacker. We'll use this name for two reasons. First, it's obvious from his scars that fighting is something he is familiar with, something he has experienced in the past. Second, the title "The Attacker" rather succinctly sums up the man's next movement.

With a primal roar, The Attacker lunges forward towards The Date Crasher. He throws a punch, but fortunately, The Date Crasher is fast enough to duck and dodge the below. Unfortunately, however, The Date Crasher is rather winded from his earlier fall through a glass window, and he's not quite at the top of his game. The next blow hits him straight in the stomach,  _hard_. It causes him to double over in pain, and the sheer force of the blow throws him backwards into the counter behind him. The Attacker doesn't give him the chance to catch his breath. He takes advantage of The Date Crasher's weakened position, and he immediately rushes forward for another attack, pinning The Date Crasher back against the counter to stop him from getting away.

Fortunately, The Date Crasher is clever. He knows to use whatever resources he has at his disposal. In this case, what is at The Date Crasher's disposal is a plate of food, neatly presented and sitting on the counter, ready to be taken out to one of the tables. It is the only thing within his reach. The Date Crasher manages to grab a hold of it, and he uses it to hit The Attacker over the head.

The china plate shatters; food falls to the floor. It does not knock The Attacker off his feet or knock him unconscious, or anything else that would put an end to the fight, but it does, at least, have the desired effect of buying The Date Crasher some time. For a moment, The Attacker is dazed. If this were a cartoon, you might see stars, or birds, flying around his head. As this is not cartoon, but instead a much more realistic story, you can tell he is dazed from the glazed look that comes over his eyes.

The Date Crasher takes advantage of the few seconds of time that his actions have granted him. He uses one hand to lift himself up and over the counter, and then he makes a run for the back exit. Unfortunately, having just gone through a glass window, and then having been punched in the stomach, on top of a number of other injuries received over the past several moments (I can tell you, dear reader, that this man received quite a lot of injuries before he came into our story) has had some rather unfortunate impacts on his abilities. He is weakened, and he cannot move as swiftly as he would normally. One arm wraps around his stomach as he runs, and he is bent over in pain. It slows him down.

This is what spurs John Watson into action.

John has always been one of those very unusual people who puts others before himself. You cannot say for certain whether his time spent serving as an army doctor has taught him to put himself in harm's way if it means saving someone else's life, or if it is just his nature, and he chose to become an army doctor because of the kind of person he is. Either way, whatever the reasoning, John is prone to moments of selflessness where he sees someone who is hurt or in danger, and his instinct is to help.

In this case, The Date Crasher is simultaneously hurt and in danger, and John cannot stand by and do nothing. So, when The Attacker recovers from his temporary daze and races after The Date Crasher, John finds himself following without a second thought.

Perhaps you're wondering about John's instincts at this point. You might be thinking that John is crazy for getting involved in this fight at all – and in truth, this is a reasonable thought, and John might very well be more than a little bit crazy. If you're not thinking that he is crazy, however, you might be wondering why John came to the conclusion that The Date Crasher needed to be saved. John doesn't know the context of the fight, doesn't know if "good" and "bad" are as obvious as they seem. John knows that The Date Crasher is a victim of this fight, but he cannot say for sure whether The Date Crasher started it, or did something to provoke it. He has no logical reason to decide that The Date Crasher needs to be saved. So why does John rush out of the restaurant after them?

The answer: instincts. John's actions are not based on any sort of logical thought process, not at this point. He has not had the time to sit down and consider the situation, to weigh up the evidence and make a logical decision regarding his actions. Instead, John is acting on his instincts, and John's instincts tell him that the man who landed upon his table only a mere few moments ago needs his help.

(It's a good instinct, that.)

The Date Crasher reaches the back exit and shoves the door open forcefully as he runs through. The Attacker follows close behind, looking like he would be willing to shove people out of his way if it weren't for the fact that everyone has cleared a path already. The Attacker bursts through the back door, and John follows, managing to slip out before the door falls shut.

I might take a moment here, dear reader, to send a quick message. Perhaps you've heard a similar thing when you've gone to a show, or to a circus: you might have heard the words 'do not try this at home'. If you are ever in a situation like this, when you find yourself witnessing a fight, I highly recommend not doing what John is doing. There are ways in which you can help that do not involve putting yourself in harm's way. Perhaps consider making a phone call to the police, or calling for help elsewhere, from a safe distance away where you will not be brought into the fight. That would be help enough. Your life must still come first.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on whose perspective you are looking from), John's mind does not work like this. John's mind does not prioritise his own safety as he should. The only thoughts running through John's mind are that he needs to help this man, and John really wishes that his gun was tucked away in his back pocket and not hidden in his bedside drawer back at his flat (where it should not be, but that is beside the point).

The gun would make John feel safer, because it would give him the opportunity to defend himself, and The Date Crasher, from afar. He can hold a gun in front of his body and can stand a safe distance back, rather than needing to put himself close to the fight. Having a gun is good, too, because it provides some sort of protection even if you do not have the intention to shoot. The threat is often enough to cause someone to back down. John prefers the threat to the reality of actually shooting, in truth. He is a doctor first and a soldier second. He will not cause harm if there is ever an alternative. However, if it ever came down to it, if John was ever in a situation where he had no choice but to shoot, then he would. If he needed to, then John could, and would defend himself.

And others, if others were involved.

But, John does not have his gun, and there is no point in wishing that he did. It does not matter. John is more than capable of defending himself. It wouldn't be the first time he had gotten into a fist fight.

This is how it plays out:

The Date Crasher's injuries slow him down too much to give him a fighting chance of getting away. Even after being knocked over the head, temporarily dazed and slowed down as a result, The Attacker manages to catch up. They both have a head start over John; by the time John catches up, the fight has already begun again. The Attacker is throwing punches, and The Date Crasher is trying to block them, or duck, or even fight back, but with minimal success. He is already injured, already weak. Alone, it is clear that this is a situation he would not easily get out of. Alone, he might not even get out of this situation alive.

Fortunately, he is not alone.

John wastes no time before rushing forward, all but throwing himself at The Attacker, to cause a shift in The Attacker's attention, from The Date Crasher to John himself. John has a much higher chance of surviving the fight, seeing as he is capable of fighting back. What's more, he is  _good_  at fighting back. The Attacker might be bigger than John, but John is better. Maybe not stronger, but better.

The Attacker throws punches, but John knows how to block them. It's almost automatic, unconscious, the way his arms fly up to protect his face and then drop to protect his stomach. He knows how to block a blow with one hand and immediately follow with a punch with the other; he barely has to think about what he is doing.

The Date Crasher stands by the wall, clutching his stomach. He is almost doubled over in pain, but he makes no move to run away. His gaze flickers between the two men engaged in the fight. He seems far more interested in watching the way it plays out than preserving his own safety. It's not the best thing for him to be doing at this point – his interest in the fight shouldn't be stronger than his interest in preserving his own life. However, I can tell you that this particular individual, while being very clever, can be very, very stupid when it comes to his own safety.

As The Date Crasher stands off to the side and watches (much like you are watching the picture that I am painting in your head), the fight continues. For the most part, the moves that John makes are defensive. He is mainly trying to protect himself. Yes, he throws punches too, but for the most part he is blocking hits and trying to keep himself safe. However, as the fight goes on, it becomes clearer and clearer that the fight is not going to stop. The Attacker has stamina, and he is not going to give up unless John makes him.

It's justification for going on the offensive.

The next time The Attacker aims a punch at John's face, John catches the fist and twists. At the same time, he hooks one ankle around the other man's and knocks his leg out from underneath him. It causes the man to fall, yelling out in pain as he does. His arm is sprained. You know this, dear reader, because I have just told you that it is true. John knows this as well, because John is a doctor. He knows how to sprain people.

The fact that John knows it is just a sprain is the very reason why he does not let his guard down. A sprain will not keep a man as apparently dangerous as The Attacker down for long; once the shock of the pain and the sudden fall to the ground has worn off, John has no doubts that the man will be back on his feet and prepared to fight. Maybe he'll have a little bit more trouble, now that his dominant arm has been injured, but John doubts that will stop him from trying. John remains on high alert, ready for the moment when The Attacker gets back on his feet and decides to finish what he started.

Fortunately, this moment never comes. It is mere seconds later, mere seconds after The Attacker has hit the floor when John hears sirens.

John does not let himself find any comfort or reassurance in the sirens as they grow closer and closer. He stands his ground above The Attacker, ready in case The Attacker decides to get back on his feet, sirens or no sirens. You might be thinking that this is reasonable, that it's better to be safe than sorry, and you would be right, because you know by now what The Attacker is capable of. However, I now need you to consider your perspective on this story. You have followed this story from the start. Your knowledge is the reason why you know that John is standing above The Attacker's fallen form because he is trying to protect himself, and The Date Crasher. You know that John is on the right side of this fight.

The policeman and detectives in the cars that pull up on the side of the road do not know this, because they have not followed this story like you have, and they have not had me to tell them who is who. They can only make judgements based on what they see – and what they see is one man (John) standing over another (The Attacker), who is on the ground and is clutching his arm in pain. You can probably imagine that this situation looks a little bit different to an outsider than it does to you and me.

Fortunately, there is one other character in this story who is a bit like you and me. He's certainly not like you and me when it comes to the person he is, because he is one of a kind, but like you and me, he knows how the position that John and The Attacker are in came to be. Even more fortunately, he is the kind of person who police will listen to. He is the kind of person the police trust – to an extent.

The moment the police turn up and get out of their cars, John's hands fly up into a position of surrender, a position that shows he is unarmed and thus a position that he hopes shows he is not a threat. At the same time, The Date Crasher (the man I was referring to in the previous paragraph, which I'm sure you picked up on) takes two stumbling steps forward, still clutching his stomach in pain. "He's with me," he days, and then reiterates, "He's with  _me_. You're looking for  _him_." The latter 'him' that The Date Crasher refers to is The Attacker, and The Date Crashed clarifies this with a jerk of the head in The Attacker's direction.

(The Attacker, I might add, is still on the ground and looks as though he has just realised he has lost his only chance of escape.)

The police and the detectives look between the man on the ground, The Date Crasher, and John, hesitating for only a moment before they decide that The Date Crasher is to be trusted. (I did tell you, did I not, that this particular character is one that the police are willing to listen to? They don't always listen to him, and they have very good reason for that, but this is one of those occasions when they are willing to take his word.) They stop approaching John and head for The Attacker instead.

Two policemen immediately move to restrain The Attacker, hauling him off the ground. It causes him to grunt in pain, his arm being pulled away from where he was cradling it against his chest, and he turns to John and spits, "You broke my arm, you bastard."

"I sprained it," John says offhandedly, but he regrets the comment as soon as it is out of his mouth because it makes all the police turn to him. Fortunately, before John even has the opportunity to backtrack, The Date Crasher speaks.

"It was self-defence," The Date Crasher says. "I can vouch for that."

The two policemen who were in the process of hauling The Attacker off the ground hesitate for a moment, before going back to their work, showing a little bit more caution around the man's sprained arm (though by no means are they gentle). One policeman – more correctly, a Detective Inspector – remains focussed on The Date Crasher instead of The Attacker. When it is clear that the two other policemen have The Attacker under control, the Detective Inspector takes a few steps over to stand closer to The Date Crasher.

John is still standing close enough to hear their conversation, though with the sounds in the street (including, but not limited to, words shared between the policemen and women, and not-so-friendly words passed from The Attacker to the policemen holding him), he does not hear every word they say. Fortunately, you have your trusty narrator (that's me, by the way, hello) here to tell you the story, and I know exactly what words were said (and, for that matter, exactly what was going through both The Detective Inspector's and The Date Crasher's head, but don't be greedy) and I can narrate it to you with perfect accuracy.

"What happened to not going off on your own?" The Detective Inspector says.

"I had it under control," The Date Crasher replies.

(He most definitely did not have it under control.)

The fact that The Date Crasher is still clutching at his stomach makes it quite clear how not-under-control the situation was, and The Detective Inspector points this out with a wave of his hand towards The Date Crasher's stomach. "It doesn't look like it," he says. "I've called an ambulance now, but if I'd known you'd be injured, I'd have done so much sooner."

"I don't need an ambulance," The Date Crasher says shortly.

(I can tell you that The Date Crasher is not severely injured to the point where an ambulance is essential for his survival, but he does need medical treatment soon.)

While this conversation is occurring, John is beginning to realise that he doesn't know what he's supposed to do in this situation. The Attacker is in handcuffs, The Date Crasher is injured but help is on the way, and then John is just standing there, watching. He doesn't think it's a good idea for him to try to leave the scene, because this is essentially a crime scene and he doesn't want to look like he's sneaking off like a criminal. He assumes he needs to give some sort of statement. At least, his limited knowledge from crime shows tells him that he should probably give some sort of statement.

John clears his throat to get people's attention, and the sound makes both The Date Crasher and The Detective turn to him. It looks as though they may have only just noticed that he is still there.

The Detective turns from John to The Date Crasher and asks, "Who's this, then?"

The question is directed to The Date Crasher more so than it is to John, but John doesn't think The Date Crasher would have any way to answer that question, seeing as he has known John for all of eight minutes or so. Awkwardly, John says, "I'm, uh, I'm nobody. I'm just—"

The Date Crasher interrupts him before he can finish. "He saw that I was injured and rushed to help," he explains. "Moral compass or something of the sort."

The Detective does not look pleased with this explanation. "You dragged a civilian into this?" he says. "It's bad enough you risking your own life, Sherlock—"

The Date Crasher – whom I will henceforth refer to as Sherlock, because I can confirm that this unusual-sounding name that the Detective just gave The Date Crasher is, indeed, this man's birth name (or, more correctly, one of his middle names, but it is the name he goes by) – cuts him off. "While I'm capable of a great many things, compelling a complete stranger to risk his life is not one of them. He came of his own accord. And, at any rate, he's not a civilian. He's a soldier."

John blinks, and then he furrows his brow. "How did you know I was a soldier?" he asks, but Sherlock waves him away with a flick of his hand.

The Detective purses his lips, looking over John briefly before looking back to Sherlock. "He's still a civilian as far as this case goes," he says. "But you're lucky. I'm pretty sure he just saved your life."

"I'm still standing here, you realise," John says.

Neither Sherlock nor The Detective hear him (or care to listen, if they do).

Sherlock waves a hand dismissively in The Detective's direction. "I had it under control," he says.

"Sure as hell doesn't look like it," The Detective says, and then he turns to John (making John very relieved that someone has decided to note his existence). "Right, I'm going to need to get your statement," he says to John, and then he looks back at Sherlock, and adds, "And then we're going to get  _you_  to a hospital to get checked out."

"I'm not going to a hospital," Sherlock says.

"Oh, yes you are," The Detective replies.

"No, I'm not."

(John is quite aware of how childish this conversation sounds, but he doesn't comment.)

"Yes, you are," The Detective reiterates, "or you're not on cases for the rest of the month."

Sherlock scoffs. "I'm sure that will last all of a few days before you find another case that you cannot handle and you come begging for me to help."

John clears his throat, the sound stopping The Detective from continuing this argument. John says, "You probably should listen to him. Given how you came smashing through that window, you'd be very lucky to not have any injuries below the skin that need treatment, and you're in a much better place if you get it checked now."

"I'm sure if there was anything severely wrong with me, I'd be in much more pain than I currently am," Sherlock says.

"Not necessarily," John replies. "Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. You should have heard some of the stories we were told in medical school."

"Medical school," Sherlock repeats, and then he watches John carefully. "Army doctor. Should have known."

"If an army doctor is telling you that you need to get checked, you should probably listen to him," The Detective says, and then he looks around, eyes settling on one of the women standing by the police car. "Donovan!" he yells, and the woman makes her way over. When she is close enough, The Detective gestures to Sherlock with a jerk of his head. "Make sure this one doesn't do anything stupid for a few minutes while I take this man's statement."

Both the woman named Donovan and Sherlock look equally disgusted by the idea of having to stand anywhere near each other. In any other situation, Sherlock would have tried to run away, but unfortunately, he cannot do that while he is in this much pain and still catching his breath. The Detective knows this – and it's the only reason why The Detective is willing to leave Sherlock alone with Donovan instead of remaining there himself. In any other situation, The Detective would insist on staying with Sherlock, because it would be the only way to make sure Sherlock stayed put. It would be a stretch to say that Sherlock respects The Detective, but The Detective does have some hold over him. They have a history. The Detective is a rather large part of the reason why Sherlock had not died of an overdose in a gutter somewhere several years ago.

That's another story. Let's get back to the point.

The Detective leads John out of the way so they have some relative privacy and quiet while John gives his statement. He is honest throughout, because he figures that's the best thing he can be. He hasn't done anything wrong, he reminds himself as he talks. Yes, he sprained a man's wrist, but it was self-defence. He explains that his only intentions were to protect himself, that spraining the man's wrist was accidental, which is a little bit of a stretch of the truth, because John did intend to injure the man just enough to stop the man from doing any more harm to John, but that barely counts as a lie. All the same, The Detective seems to understand.

When John is done recounting his story, when it is clear that The Detective has no more questions of clarification to ask, John asks a question of his own. "Who was he?" he asks, gesturing to where The Attacker had been taken to one of the police cars waiting for him on the street.

The Detective follows his gaze, even though he knows exactly who John was talking about even without needing to look over his shoulder. The reason why he does this is to buy himself some time before he needs to come up with a way to best explain the situation to someone who isn't directly involved with the police. In the end, he says, "He's a member of an organisation that we've been following for several months now."

The tone of The Detective's voice tells John that there is little point in pressing the subject further, because that's about as detailed an answer as he is going to get. He assumes that this organisation is a drug cartel, or a group of smugglers or some form. He is wrong – the organisation is question is much, much wider than that, and much more dangerous than you would think, but I could spend thousands and thousands of words telling you all about that.

For now, let's focus on our own story as it begins to come to its end. The Detective dismisses John with a nod of his head and a reminder that The Detective will contact John if there are any further questions, but for the moment being, John is free to go. John steps away from The Detective, and looks around, eyes seeking out Sherlock, who is still standing next to Donovan where he was left. Their eyes lock for a second, and John realises that Sherlock has been staring at him.

Sherlock mutters something to Donovan that makes her cross her arms over her chest and glare for a moment, but then she looks towards John and sighs. Sherlock steps past her, and she doesn't try to stop him. He walks the few steps over to John, joining him before John has the opportunity to leave. "Most people would not have put themselves in harm's way for a complete stranger," he states.

"No, they probably wouldn't," John agrees.

Sherlock tilts his head to the side, examining John carefully. There's something in his eyes that makes John feel like he's being cut open and examined from the inside out. "Why?" Sherlock asks after a pause. "You didn't know the circumstances of the fight. You didn't know what I had done to provoke it, if anything. And yet, you decided I was worth saving, even if it meant getting hurt in the process."

John cannot say why for sure. Instinct is funny like that. John doesn't know why he made the decision to go after Sherlock and The Attacker, because he never made the decision at all – one moment he was eating dinner, the next he was saving a man's life. He shrugs his shoulders. "I just had a feeling," he says.

Sherlock lets out a pensive hum. After a brief pause, he says, "Well, I doubt your girlfriend would have liked your feeling very much," he says.

At the words, John's eyes widen, almost comically. "Jeanette," he says under his breath. He left her behind. He had hardly even realised it. In the commotion and the action, she had completely slipped his mind. He hadn't even thought about what she must be thinking, left alone at the restaurant. He looks around, and then says, "I have to go."

He's already given his statement, so no one tries to stop him as he turns and walks – and then runs – away.

By the time John gets to the restaurant, Jeanette is long gone. A waiter tells him as much when John asks; the waiter explains that Jeanette had left in a huff, and John goes home feeling like that was well-deserved. Due to the way in which I have told you this story, I know you may very well be on John's side here, and you may think that Jeanette was being unreasonable, but I ask you to consider the situation from Jeanette's perspective. If you were in her shoes, and your date had suddenly run off after a violent fight without another word, and had not made any effort to contact you for a considerable time afterwards, and had not answered your several phone calls – well, leaving in a huff is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

John sends her a text when he gets home (when calling her fails), which he spends some time drafting and redrafting. He explains to her what happened, both with regards to the reason why he had chased after Sherlock and The Attacker as well as what had happened after he had gotten through the back door. He apologises profusely, and tells her that he did have a very nice time with her (even though that's a lie, and he actually felt quite awkward throughout the night) and that he would like to see her again.

The latter part isn't quite a lie – the date was awkward, yes, but John holds in his heart the hope that it was no more awkward than any first date would be. Jeanette seems like a lovely woman, and maybe if he gave her time, if they spent more time together, the initial awkwardness would fade.

John doesn't receive a reply from Jeanette that night, and there is nothing on his phone when he wakes up the next morning (although that's hardly a surprise, seeing as getting up as early as John does is not often something people do unless they have a military history like him). It's mid-morning when he does receive a lengthy reply back, which essentially tells him that Jeanette had never felt so humiliated and so worried, and she does not believe that she could be in a relationship with someone whom she does not trust and someone who does not give her some sort of feeling of stability. She finishes the text by asking John not to call her again.

It's upsetting, yes, but John realises very quickly that the reason he is upset is not because he has lost Jeanette specifically, but rather because this is another potential relationship that has gone down the drain. Maybe it's better that she doesn't want to see him again, he thinks, because it's not fair to her if he tried to maintain some sort of relationship when he preferred the concept of that relationship to the relationship itself.

But don't worry, dear reader, because I will not finish this story on a break up. I told you, did I not, that John would meet someone in this story with whom he would just  _click_ , like they were meant to be, and he did. That first meeting with Sherlock was not the last. Several weeks later, there is a second meeting where Sherlock turns up at John's front door quite injured and begging for somewhere to hide. This quickly turns into a series of adventures that involve John moving into Sherlock's flat and saving Sherlock's life on multiple occasions, while Sherlock investigates gripping murders and awes John with series of deductions that prove he is capable of paying attention to even the tiniest details and building a story out of that.

But  _that's_  another story.


End file.
